


I'll Be Good

by BlueEyedArcher



Series: Just Give Me A Reason [2]
Category: Vampyr (Video Game)
Genre: Charms, Feels, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Gift Giving, Humor, M/M, Reasons why, Symbolism, Trinkets, slight angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-19
Updated: 2019-12-19
Packaged: 2021-02-24 15:42:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,855
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21860377
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlueEyedArcher/pseuds/BlueEyedArcher
Summary: Geoffrey makes it his mission to outline all the reasons that Jonathan should stay.-------A Sequel to My Sanctuary
Relationships: Geoffrey McCullum/Jonathan Reid
Series: Just Give Me A Reason [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1574890
Comments: 26
Kudos: 131





	I'll Be Good

**Author's Note:**

> The name of the fic is inspired by the song I'll Be Good by Jaymes Young.

“What is it?” Jonathan asked with a soft curiosity lifting his voice in the early hours. The quiet in the Priwen headquarters was staggering with all the patrols out roaming the streets and those remaining in the building were dispersed to their respective offices. Soft grey blue eyes inspected the small wooden red X that Geoffrey had placed in his palm. It was about the same size as a bad pin, painted carefully and made of a soft smooth wood.

“A cross.” Geoffrey answered, watching the ekon closely. After the stunt pulled in the cemetery, the hunter refused to let the doctor leave until he was certain he wouldn’t repeat the same brazen attempt.

“Very funny.” Jonathan rolled his eyes, rolling it around in his palm thoughtfully. “Seriously though.”

“It’s a medical cross Reid.” Geoffrey took the little wooden item from his palm, holding it between thumb and index finger as he held it up. His other hand dug into his pocket and pulled a length of leather cording out, letting it unfurl from its carefully wrapped loops. He went to work easily slipping it onto the cord and working it down to the center where it sat prominently in the center. “Since you are a doctor first and foremost, this will be your first reason for living.”

Jonathan raised a brow at that. “What are you getting at?” This was sudden and very out of the blue for him. He’d spent three days sleeping in Geoffrey’s quarters, having the Priwen leader fuss over his healing wounds and retrieve rats for him to consume, making up for the blood lost when he was regenerating both of his arms from their painfully burnt appearance. The ache in his hands finally faded and the hard puckered skin along his jawline and upper cheek smoothed out to something new and soft.

The hunter sighed, stepping closer to the doctor as he tied the leather cord around his neck, ignoring the intimacy of their closeness as diligent fingers slipped the knot tightly in place. He stepped back, admiring the little wooden bead resting against Jonathan’s chest. “All it takes is one little goal to get you by in life. A reason to keep moving on.”

Jonathan lifted the cross, letting the subtle weight rest on his palm as he inspected it. He hadn’t necessarily expected it to be a bead. He lifted his gaze when Geoffrey continued, placing a hand on his shoulder and giving it a reassuring squeeze. “Today is Sunday, yeah?” Jonathan paused, considered the days that passed him by before nodding in agreement. “A week from now, you’ll come back to me and I’ll have a new bead to add to it. Each will be a surprise and hopefully, a reason for you to keep moving on. When those storm clouds start circling in your head, just look down at the cord and count your blessings.” He poked at the red cross when he said the last part. 

“I see.” Jonathan hummed thoughtfully. “I- thank you Geoffrey.”

“No need to thank me.” He chuckled. “Just be sure to come back next Sunday. Don’t make me have to hunt your sorry arse down.” The tone was teasing as he smiled at the doctor, dismissing him, finally free from the temporary house arrest the Priwen Leader had him under.

As the week went by, Geoffrey diligently worked on the next series of beads he had planned for Jonathan’s cord and the good doctor found himself thinking of the hunter during his long nights. In the idle hours at the hospital, he would find himself thumbing over the cross where it rested beneath his shirt, tucked out of view of the patients and nurses. In the even rarer moments, he would find himself pulling it out into the open and inspecting the carefully crafted wood, sanded down to a pleasant texture beneath his fingers. It made him eager to find out just what other items Geoffrey had in store for him.

When Sunday came around, Jonathan was pleasantly surprised to find the hunter standing at his office door when the sun had just sunk below the horizon and he was rousing from a heavy dreamless sleep. His shirt was unbuttoned with the leather cord hanging around his neck, the weight of the cross resting against his breast bone. He shuffled across the room, catching the familiar scent of Geoffrey’s presence waiting patiently on the other side. The reassuring steady beat of his heart was a song melody to Jonathan’s ears as he opened the door, hair in disarray and falling into his face as he inspected the hunter. He was lounged against the wall, arms crossed casually as he waited with a predatory patience. The true virtues of the fearless hunter.

“I thought the agreement meant _I_ was doing the house calls.” Jonathan spoke up, drinking in the hunter’s calm appearance and that tiny little crooked smile that teased on his lips when he found something interesting or amusing. 

“I was in the area and figured I’d save you the trip.” He informed. The quiet flutter of his heart whispered the truth into Jonathan’s ear. It was a lie. Geoffrey came out of his way to wait for him and the doctor found he wasn’t entirely sure how to take that little piece of knowledge. He offered a sheepish smile and held the door open for him to come in.

Geoffrey followed, shutting it behind himself with all the ease of a man who felt comfortable in any environment. That same illustrious swagger that was all feline grace and prowess.

“What’s the surprise for today then?” Jonathan inquired, moving to make himself more presentable to his guest and prepare for the night of routine rounds. It wasn’t like Geoffrey hadn’t already seen him at his worst. The leather cord around his neck was proof enough of that. He slipped it off over his head and handed it to Geoffrey so the hunter could add the next bead for him while he dressed.

“You’ll see.” Geoffrey clicked his tongue as he turned away from Jonathan, allowing a sparse privacy for the doctor while also protecting the new addition from view until he was ready. When Reid was dressed and far more proper, he faced the hunter who grinned proudly, looping the cord back around Reid’s neck with satisfaction before stepping back. 

On the left of the red cross now sat a small wooden poppy, painted the brightest shade of white and made from soft driftwood, giving the closest approximation to how the delicate petals feel under thumb. “Poppies are for medicinal use, right? Thought it would be fitting for you.” Geoffrey explained.

“Why white?” Jonathan inquired, inspecting the hunter with an odd sort of fascination. He knew Geoffrey was a very clever and bright minded individual, despite how often Swansea depicted him as a mindless brute and barbarian. But these little intricacies that he built for every bead just for Jonathan’s benefit was both astounding and well worth admiration. He felt his dead heart flutter at the thought. _Just for him._

“White to symbolize peace.” He shrugged after a moment. “Thought it’d be poetic.”

“How charming.” Jonathan purred, watching the blush creeping up on Geoffrey’s face at the compliment. He scratched at the back of his neck and gave a sheepish smile.

“I best get back though. Only meant to stop by for a quick minute. O’Connor’s left in charge but I don’t trust him to keep the lads from burning the place down for long.” He admitted, tossing a more genuine smile Jonathan’s way as the doctor nodded. 

“Of course. Don’t let me keep you then. I’ll see you next week.”

“Counting on it.” The hunter called back as he headed for the door.

  
  


* * *

Something about Geoffrey brought out the childish excitement in Jonathan. He presumed it was due to the little games and riddles his father would leave for him as a child, playing the mysterious Game’s Master who left notes and secrets lying around for him to decode. Everytime he figured it out, the thrill and pride was far more rewarding than the candies and gifts he’d find. Seeing his father smile at him so warmly, the delight beaming across his face was a better reward than Jonathan could have imagined. The memories brought a bittersweet ache to his chest, but he found he shared that same feeling whenever Geoffrey would appear, take the cord from him and secretly apply the next bead and leave it for Jonathan to decipher the meaning behind.

The third bead was a red rose, a symbol of love and a shadow of his late family, but also a reminder of his compassion for the little things. How he took pity on the poor dying plant in his office, gave it a fighting chance and named it Lisa. On the back of the rose was a small engraved L. Geoffrey wouldn’t tell him if the L was for Lisa or for Love. Still, the rose sat on the right side of the cross, opposite the white poppy. 

The week after that, he received a black bowtie beside the Poppy and on the other side in the following week, it was a warm chocolate brown bead in the shape of a bat with its wings outstretched. Geoffrey was incredibly proud of that one and even picked a dark hickory wood to carve it out of, giving the slight illusion of fur patterns in the grain.

Jonathan appreciated the amusement the hunter was drawing from the experience and he appeared just as eager and excited about the entire thing as Jonathan was. There was a back and forth pattern of seriously thought out charms, such as a bead that resembled a book but upon closer inspection had the word _Dracula_ carved into the front. The week after, was a lovely and very detailed carving of a rat. Compliments of O’Connor’s pet Francach who played a prominent model for Geoffrey’s handiwork. The shit eating grin on the hunter’s face when Jonathan saw it couldn’t be missed even if one were blind.

As the weeks went on, he found himself seeking the cord out in his idle hours, finding comfort in the growing weight against his chest and the different textures of the woods under his fingers when he’d fiddle with it. He felt naked without it on and would even wear it while he slept. Spending a decent five minutes every morning tracing each bead and committing each meaning to memory.

The next two to follow were a bullet made of a firm sturdy piece of light wood that resembled brass, and a light grey wood, hard edged and carefully carved to look like an arrowhead. They were less like beads and were instead wrapped in a piece of wiring with a loop for the cord to run through. For his fighting spirit and his sharp intuition, as evidence from his days fending off the epidemic. The next two had Jonathan’s initials carved into them, little rounded beads with a squarish front, painted in a soft sky blue. **J** on one side and **R** on the other.

Sometime in the week, Geoffrey made an unannounced visit to Pembroke hospital, slipping into Swansea’s old office while the doctors were out on rounds. In that time, the skull from Dr. Swansea’s collection was mysteriously missing. When Jonathan went to see the hunter a few days later for their agreed meeting, he was given the newest addition to his collection, which was a small wooden skull. 

“You wouldn’t happen to know where Dr. Swansea’s skull went, would you?” Jonathan asked as he examined the attention to detail. The hunter hummed quietly, cocking his head as if trying to recall some modicum of information that was far out of reach. 

“Have you checked the front gates of the hospital? It may have been hanging on one of the fence posts.”

“Did you seriously stick the skull on a pike McCullum?” Jonathan asked in sudden disbelief.

“I have always enjoyed a flair for the dramatics Dr. Reid.” He chuckled, catching the growing smile on the other man’s face though he tried desperately to feign disapproval. 

Returning to the hospital, Jonathan found the skull right where Geoffrey left it and honestly, it was rather amusing. Nurse Branagan didn’t seem to think so and made quite the fuss about it until Milton grabbed a ladder and took it down.

The next two charms were equally as amusing to McCullum, but Jonathan adored his sense of humor. One was an actual vampire fang which Geoffrey refused to admit where exactly he got such an item. It was polished and bleached, fitted with an iron base with a crafted loop to attach to the cord with. The tip was dulled just enough to prevent any accidental injury. The following week had a small red teardrop made of wood. It was a deep dark mahogany stained an even more vibrant red and polished to shine in the light.

“Is this because I drink blood?” Jonathan asked plainly.

“Nope. I’m not that dense Reid.” Geoffrey shook his head curtly and sighed. “You’re the leading expert in blood transfusion techniques, even before you became a leech. The irony doesn’t lose its humor if I’m being honest but this is to represent your passion in the field. And your iron will to deny your nature and instincts.”

“That’s...actually very thoughtful. Thank you.” Jonathan admitted, inspecting the growing collection that now hung around his neck. It was gaining considerable weight with the passing weeks but he enjoyed the reminders nonetheless.

“Don’t forget about next week.” Geoffrey assured. “You’re in for a real treat.”

“I’m not entirely sure how you can outdo yourself already, Geoffrey.” He gave a breathy laugh but was eager to see what new and interesting plans the hunter had in store. If he was being honest, he assumed Geoffrey would have run out of ideas by now which he’d admit probably didn’t say much for his confidence for the entire project at hand but he was certain the hunter would eventually run out. It made him wonder just how many more reasons Geoffrey thought he’d need to stay. Or if this was some sort of self fulfillment for the other. Something to keep idle hands busy in the calm days that fell over the City since the epidemic.

  
  


The following week was a bustling anxiety of anticipation with Geoffrey’s promise ringing in his ears. This was doing wonders for his mood but was wreaking havoc on his work. He was distracted and found himself playing with the cord of charms more often than not, even garnering curious glances from the other staff who’d catch him filling out forms at the Nurse’s station, one hand working the pen across the papers and the other tangled up in the charms and beads, He gave an apologetic smile and tucked the cord out of view, finished his papers and left briskly.

Jonathan arrived as soon as he could manage, slipping out of the upper balcony to bypass the nursing staff who seemed adamant to keep him busy with more paperwork than anything else. O’Connor met him at the front entrance to Priwen and led him inside to Geoffrey's office, a route he was more than familiar with now but he assumed it was simply protocol given his nature.

“Come in.” Geoffrey called when the second in command knocked. The door was opened for Jonathan and curtly shut by O’Connor afterwards to leave the two in privacy. “Ah, Reid. You’re early tonight.” He preened, rising from his seat at his desk and promptly abandoning the reports he’d been pouring over.

“You tease me with these riddles and promises Geoffrey. I find it hard to stay away.” He admitted fondly, his voice a low purr of satisfaction as the hunter smirked. A smug expression that spread on his lips in an enticing display.

“Aye, well you’ll be pleased with what I have. Spent the last few weeks trying to find the right materials.” He went on, holding out his hand to accept the cord from Jonathan as the doctor carefully removed it, holding both ends to keep the charms from falling off. Geoffrey took it and walked around to his desk, the gesture was more for privacy than necessity, his back turned to the ekon as he faced the window. The orange glow of the room filled it with radiant warmth, heat crept up along Jonathan’s face and along his neck as he watched the hunter with a hunger more akin to desire than his abandoned thirst.

“There we go. Close your eyes.” Geoffrey ordered, stepping towards the Ekon with that same teasing swagger that made his fingers itch with the desire to reach out and caress his hips. Jonathan obliged the request and held still while Geoffrey tied the cord back around his neck. His fingers lingered along Jonathan's pale skin, tracing the ridge of his collar as he adjusted the cord and the charms to ensure they were smoothed over flat. “There ya go. You can look now.”

Jonathan opened his eyes and noted just how close together they were. Geoffrey’s hands lingered on his lapels for a pause before withdrawing but he didn’t step back. Jonathan didn’t mind it one bit, his eyes flicking down to inspect the newest addition. His fingers outlined the small amber orb fixed into the center of a copper sun pendant. Each beam was carefully crafted and painstakingly cut. 

“Since you don’t get to see the sun anymore, thought this would be fitting.” Geoffrey spoke quietly. “You always manage to brighten up the lives you walk into. Your body lacks human warmth but the compassion you harbor is beyond that of mortal comprehension. It’s something to be respected and admired, Jonathan.”

“It’s beautiful Geoffrey.” Jonathan breathed, running his fingers over the smoothed edges of the sun’s rays and the glossy shine of the amber. It was truly wonderful and beyond anything he had anticipated. “You’ve outdone yourself hunter. I’m not sure how you’ll be able to top this.”

“I have my ways Reid.” Geoffrey hummed, leaning in closer so they were but a hair’s breadth away from one another. It was tempting to close that last little stretch of space and steal a kiss but Reid held himself steady, refusing to let his petty desires ruin the mood.

A knock on the door disturbed them, the quiet inquiries of O'Connor as he proposed an important matter that came up. Geoffrey looked displeased at the interruption and tiredly waved it off in dismissal. Reid smiled sympathetically, knowing all too well how their work took priority over personal matters. He bid Geoffrey a good evening and made his return to Pembroke, his thoughts still dancing around the imagery of indulgence and what it would feel like to pull the hunter in close and claim his lips as his own. It warmed his dead heart, kicking a new rhythm into play within his ribs as he smiled the whole way back to the hospital and even carried that fond look throughout his rounds.

There next meeting came quickly when Jonathan's workload piled up with an influx in flu. The cold months were upon them, the first bitter nip of snow fluttered to the ground in plump white flakes. The ambient crunch beneath his boots stole the silence that befell London. It was a hush of hesitance, disturbed only by the weary merchants peddling their wares and the wayward strangers stumbling home from the Turquoise Turtle.

It was outside of Priwen that he found Geoffrey waiting for him, his red scarf pulled round his neck and a pair of gloves warming his palms, the fingertips exposed for ease of combat and use. Puffs of white breath drifted up from his lips as he blew on his fingers to warm them. His dark blue eyes lifted to meet the doctor's raised brow, his mouth quirked into a smirk. "Was wondering when you'd be coming round. Thought I'd have to come getcha."

"It's been a busy week for Pembroke." Jonathan sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose with sympathetic weariness.

"Aye, a good third of the lads are down with a bug. It's that time of year. O'Connor has got his hands full playing nursemaid for the lot of them, brewing more tea and soup than a housewife."

"Would you like me to check on them?" Jonathan asked, genuine concern laid across his words. He had come prepared, intending to do his rounds through Whitechapel after their designated meeting.

"If you like. I don't think anyone will complain." Geoffrey smiled and led Reid inside, stopping him at the threshold before they went any further. The hunter twisted around, holding his hand out towards his chest before tipping his palm up expectantly. Jonathan frowned in confusion before his mind caught up to the request. He sat his bag down on his feet to keep it above the damp floor and untied the cord, letting the leather lay across Geoffrey's palm. 

"Meet me in my office when you're done. I'll have the next one ready for you. O'Connor's in the kitchen down that way." He gestured in direction. "He'll show you where the lads are."

"Thank you Geoffrey." 

"No need to thank me. Should be _I_ thanking you." Geoffrey hummed before heading inside, stomping the snow off of his boots at the entrance before heading up towards his office. Jonathan diverged to the kitchen to find O'Connor running three kettles in rotation and working on a large pot of broth, the herbal aroma permeated the air plucking at childhood nostalgia. Of winter mornings when his mother would be in the kitchen making tea and pastries for when he and Mary woke.

He helped O'Connor carry the trays of soup bowls and tea cups to the infirmary where cots and beds had been moved to house the sick. It took over an hour for him to check on each guard, treat their symptoms and pass out food. With O'Connor's help and a few of the Priwen medics not already down with the flu, the work went by quickly and easily enough for Jonathan. Before long, he had scrubbed up, put away his bag and was making his way up to Geoffrey's office.

The hunter was seated at his desk as per usual, eyes fixed on the series of reports sprawled out across the surface as he considered their current situation and stability. The skal population had hit a major decline with Jonathan’s help and the rest of Priwen carrying out routine sweeps in hot bed areas. London was almost peaceful again which meant Priwen wouldn’t be needed anymore unless the Ascalon club decides to cause problems but he didn’t see that coming any time soon. After the avoidance of the disaster and Jonathan’s own stance towards the club’s unorthodox activities, it was clear they were in hiding. Rightfully afraid if Geoffrey was to put it.

As the sound of the door clicked shut behind Jonathan, he peered up from his work and smiled in greeting to the Ekon. He discarded the report he was pouring over in favor of entertaining his guest, rising from his seat, he smoothed out his coat shirt and opened his desk drawer, retrieving the leather cord from its hiding place. He paused in his movements as he considered the item, his jaw clicking shut as he shook the thought away. He decided he didn’t need to surprise Jonathan this time with the offered charm, approaching the doctor in plain view as he held the cord up to him to inspect. 

The new addition was across from the sun, a small intricate items of carefully joined tin, cut with softened edges, interlocked and surrounded by four rings that formed a protective orb around the points. A slender rod was fitted in the center and soldered together to fit them all together seamlessly in one intricate piece of craftsmanship. “A star.” Geoffrey explained.

“And the meaning behind this one?” Jonathan asked as he gently took the cord and started to tie it back around his neck where it rightfully belonged. The pleasant weight against his chest was reassuring. In the small time that it had been absent, he felt as if something important was missing and it had been rather distracting surprisingly enough. 

“Destiny is sometimes a fickle path that few are courageous enough to tread. You stormed through the gates with all the grace and power of a man not to be trifled with and faced down the end of times with skill that could rival the greatest defender of Britain.” Geoffrey praised, the warmth that settled in his eyes when they rested on Jonathan now, drinking in every inch of the doctor as if he were seeing a childhood idol for the very first time. They were bright and full of hope. It made Jonathan’s heart flutter painfully out of rhythm and he swallowed down the prickling heat that curled beneath his cheeks. The nervous jittery sensation stretched into the pit of his stomach and made him shift almost anxiously beneath the man’s gaze. Not even Lady Ashbury looked at him with such _yearning._

“Well I- I couldn’t exactly refuse.” Jonathan stumbled over his words, raising a hand to rub at the back of his neck with a sheepish hunch. “So many lives were at risk.”

“But you didn’t _have_ to. You could have been like any other leech that had utilized the epidemic to murder and feed without remorse or consequence. Instead you stood your ground, against Ascalon, against the Brotherhood, against Priwen and even the most Ancient of your kind.” Geoffrey gestured with a flair of his hand as if the whole world had lazed by, refusing to lift a hand to aid them in their time of need. “You….you were always different Jonathan Emmet Reid. You’re unique. Like a star in the night sky. A mysterious existence that defies rationality and expectation with all the allure of a well kept secret. Simply beautiful.”

“You leave me speechless.” Jonathan admitted after a pause of silence, drawing in a breath as he relished in the elegant description. “You flatter me Geoffrey. I don’t really believe I am worthy of such kind words but I will accept them if you really do mean them.”

“I do, Jonathan.” Geoffrey assured, closing the space between them with a gentle smile playing on his lips. “I mean every last word.” 

“I-” Jonathan’s thought was disrupted by a knock on the door, a heavy weight against the wood that heralded O’Connor’s presence on the other side with a matter of the utmost importance once more.

“Bloody hell. I swear O’Connor has a sixth sense about these things.” Geoffrey hissed through clenched teeth and shook his head.

“You better see to your men, McCullum. I do need to be on my way back to Pembroke. I look forward to our next meeting.”

The following weeks were brief interactions around busier work. Jonathan could barely find time to make the trip into Whitechapel, meeting Geoffrey halfway while the Priwen leader was filling in for patrols while his men were still out sick. He offered the next charm in the scarce moments they had alone in an alley. A crescent moon made of polished silver. So that he may never lose his way when navigating the darkest paths in this world. The next week, Geoffrey was forced to leave the charm in Reid’s office during the day while he was asleep, a note tucked under it on his nightstand. 

Polished blue green glass from a broken bottle, picked up from the shoreline along the East End presumably. The note stated it was to represent how Jonathan always saw the true worth in people, gazing beyond appearances and status to see the light shining through in its most natural shades. He added it to the cord and inspected the soft green-blue shadows it through against the wall as he held it up to the light. It was positively mesmerizing.

Their next encounter came when the pair crossed paths outside of the Turquoise Turtle. Geoffrey was running a job for Tom, with so few Skals to hunt and the cold weather closing in towards Christmas, Priwen was scraping up any kind of work they could get, from chasing off ruffians and the Wet Boot Boys to playing the part of couriers. It was trying times indeed but Geoffrey didn’t seem all that moody, earning a bottle of good Irish whiskey for his troubles which he carefully tucked into his coat pocket. He met Jonathan with a wide grin and led him to the nearest alcove for cover and privacy. There he added a small sterling silver horseshoe.

“A good ol fashion Irish horseshoe for luck.” It was an already made piece of jewelry, old in appearance even now. “To remind you of the day we met, that odd twist of fate that threw us together was a day I had once regretted but not anymore. I’m glad to have met you Jonathan.” Geoffrey hummed. His cheeks rosy from the bitter nip of the winter wind as snow blew around the corners of their alcove. They departed with awkward smiles, brushing past the small staggering crowd of patrons that milled out front coming and going.

The next week a small parcel was delivered by O’Connor to the hospital, who informed Jonathan that Geoffrey was currently out of London at the time and had instructed him to deliver the small box at the designated day and time. Jonathan had just finished his routine rounds through the hospital and was signing off on a couple reports involving recently released patients when he accepted the box and quietly excused himself to retreat back to his office.

Inside the box was a small wooden heart with the Priwen insignia carved into one side. On the other were these simple words. 

_Mo grá_

Tucked beneath the charm was a folded up paper that read in Geoffrey’s scrawled out hand. 

_Jonathan,_

_  
__I apologize that I could not give this to you in person._

_The heart is a symbol of courage and honesty._

_You have always been true to yourself and your ideals._

_You’ve followed your instincts as a man instead of a monster._

_Your heart is strong and true. Cherish it and never be afraid to follow it._

_When next we meet, it’ll be at Whitechapel Cemetery._

_Where the sun rose and you fell._

_-Geoffrey McCullum_

  
  


Jonathan slipped the paper back inside the box, ignoring the burn of emotion settling in the back of his throat as he cleared it away. He busied his hands with untying his cord and adding the next charm into its place. He ran his fingers over the engravings of the new addition and committed every detail to memory. He found himself rereading that note again and again throughout the week, anticipating what the next item would be. Work was tiresome as per usual, the workload fluctuated between too much and too little, with Christmas drawing near and the holiday season putting many folks into conflicting moods of far too cheery or overly bitter, the storm clouds of dread settled in the hearts of minds of many who hadn’t the coin or conscience to celebrate this year.

The younger nurses and staff started decorating the hospital with festive paper cutouts and wreaths. He had ordered a sizable amount of holiday candies from Calhoun Russel’s shop in the West End, the basket set on the Nurse’s station to be handed out to patients and visitors that stopped by to check in. It was all he could do to keep himself distracted from the upcoming day.

He made a trip out the night before to pick up a gift for Geoffrey, feeling in the festive mood to show his appreciation to the hunter for all he’s done for him. He didn’t quite know what to get a man who seemed to have all he could want. A man with simple wants in this odd little corner of the world. He perused the shops, inspecting the offered goods trying to find something tastefully practical to the hunter. In the time he’s come to know Geoffrey, practicality was everything about the man. From the clothes he wore, to the weapons he carried to the methods to his order’s calculated madness. There was reason and use in everything, with little waste left behind.

That didn’t exactly extend much into the markets of the West End, Jonathan realized where most items sold were frivolous and flashy with little actual use to them. He flitted from clothing shops to the candy store across from it, deciding to make up a basket of goods that Geoffrey could enjoy over the holidays and potentially share with his men if he so wished. He filled it with bottles of wine, assorted chocolates and cookies, preserved candied fruits and nuts, an assortment of goods that both he and Mary had once enjoyed in their youth. Nostalgic treats and tastes that he remembered were so exquisite on his tongue in those nearly forgotten golden days of his life. When it was simple and calm.

As the woman behind the counter built the basket for him, he found his hand wandered to finger the charms around his neck, interweaving with the cord in a minute moment of reassurance. Every bead and charm memorized by touch as he recounted each reason he was here, everything he had built in this life. Every last piece that Geoffrey had paid attention to, took careful note of and found it important enough to build a physical totem to _just for him._

He paid for the basket, a considerably heavy weight for the woman who had trouble moving it on the desk but he lifted with ease, paying for it with a polite smile. It was possibly the most expensive thing he’s bought all year. He had been too busy tending to everybody else’s needs and his new vampiric status cut out a startling amount of necessities. Most of his funds collected during the epidemic went towards procuring medical supplies for the hospital, but thinking back now, it felt so long ago. The Disaster and his own turning were becoming a fading dream in his mind. That didn’t make the days that followed any less real but it was still a jaded feeling some days when he awoke from dreamless sleep in an ever constant world of darkness.

Jonathan sighed, departing the store as he continued through the market. He stuck to the practical use of the basket and added several different fine cheeses and a bottle of scotch to it, assuming good food and drink would never go to waste in Priwen. By the time he started to leave the market, the basket was heavy enough for even Jonathan to take notice, along with the two bags on his arm, one filled with more edible delights wrapped in brown paper and another with a leather bound black book with empty pages and a new ink pen to accompany it. He had seen McCullum’s old journal during his investigation into the Blood of Hate and the Disaster, an old and faded book that was barely held together by a prayer. He assumed the esteemed leader would find some use in it, even if it was to complain about the problematic antics of his subordinates or the continuous interruption at the hands of his second in command.

Jonathan let a small laugh bubble up in his throat as he made his way back to his manor house for the night, assuming the trip would be shorter than attempting the long walk back to Pembroke with so many things in his arms. It was just asking for trouble if he was being honest.

It took him three hours to arrange everything within the basket perfectly enough to be carried without the items falling out with a big brightly colored bow attached to the wicker handle. He was thankful for the sturdiness of its construction with the sheer weight of the thing and wrapped a cloth around it to shield it from both the elements and prying eyes.

When the next night followed, he made the long trek to the Cemetery at the first wink of darkness over the horizon. His vampiric senses be damned, his own mortal anticipation for the meeting had him awake earlier than normal and he was brimming with a nervous jittery energy. Several times he reconsidered that the basket may have been overkill. A sudden impulsive purchase of a man taken with the festive energy of the season. He corrected his thoughts by reminding himself that Geoffrey had more than deserved every inch of its contents and if the hunter failed to see so, Jonathan would just have to persuade him to accept it nonetheless. He was certain O’Connor would assist him in his argument.

He cut through Whitechapel, taking the back streets to make it to the entrance of the Cemetery. It was a long walk through the rows of headstones. The snow was deeper here, not deterred by any foot traffic other than the sparse few visitors who came to place flowers on the graves of their loved ones during the day. Splashes of festive reds and greens broke up the gloomy whites and greys of the Cemetery, the mausoleums decorated with wreaths for those who still had relatives left behind. In a few smaller plots, he spotted a pair of headstones that he presumed were husband and wife, at the base of their stones were two small flowers and handcrafted Christmas cards with the sloppy poorly crafted handwriting akin to a child wishing their grandparents a Merry Christmas.

It was a stark contrast to the last time he had come here, walking among the presumably forgotten and abandoned. Lives that had seen so much now left with so little. It warmed him and made his dead heart beat a little faster with sympathetic relief. Only to be shadowed moments later when he realized he had come empty handed. In his nervous anticipation, he had forgotten to pick up a bouquet for either his Mother or Mary. He sighed disappointedly at himself, committing to it that he would stop by with something in the following nights before Christmas to make up for the poorly planned visit. He adjusted the basket in his arms sheepishly, gazing at the steps leading up to the courtyard with a twisting sense of guilt and apprehension.

With a deep breath, he sucked in the crisp night air and mounted the steps, taking them with heavy stride as he entered the small circular space that homed his beloved Mother and sister. Jonathan stopped abruptly as he rounded the small curve in the cobblestones and stared. Carefully nestled at the base of both headstones were lit candles and a poinsettia flower. The soft glow of golden light from the flickering candle illuminated the names of his family, stealing the cold breath from his lungs. He faltered, very nearly dropping the basket in his arms as he stepped closer, blinking in disbelief. He was certain this wasn’t Avery’s doing. As he moved closer, he noticed the snow had been cleared off from the tops of the stones and upon them lie a small silver pence to show they had been visited by another.

Jonathan smiled, the corners of his mouth trembling as he tried to conceal the rush of emotions that threatened to consume him. The genuine swell of appreciation and a deep seated gratitude that clenched tightly in his chest and made his eyes prickle with that telling sign that he was about to make a bloody mess of himself again. He gently sat the basket down in the snow and sucked in a calming breath, reining in his joy as he knelt before the graves and placed a hand on each stone. His fingertips tracing the letters of their names with fondness, his voice a soft crack in the air, breaking the loud silence of the Cemetery.

“Hello Mother. Mary.” He sighed. “I’m sorry I haven’t visited you in a while. I’ve been trying to be a better man for the both of you. I apologize for my horrendous behavior the last time I visited. It was unbecoming of me and I am so sorry.”

He let his words trail softly, tearing his eyes away to glance at the basket by his side before smiling back at the headstones. “You’ll be pleased to know I’ve found somebody. _Finally_ as I’m sure you would put it Mary.” He let a breathy chuckle escape him. “He makes me want to be a better man and is not afraid to remind me when I’m being absolutely foolish.”

“Somebody has to, ya know.” The voice interrupted quietly at his side, making Jonathan startle and turn to gaze up at the hunter with wide grey-blue eyes. Geoffrey’s smirk was so self-satisfied. The stealth in which he portrays often makes Jonathan wonder if the hunter was not secretly an ekon himself. “You have a lovely family Jonathan.” He added, crouching down at his side so they were both at eye level now.

“Thank you.” Jonathan started, his breath catching in his throat when he noticed the snow clinging to Geoffrey’s gloves, the dampness that came from spending too much time in this weather. “Were you the one that..?” He couldn’t bring himself to finish the question, feeling the rough ball of emotion return with a vengeance, determined to break him one way or another tonight. He had really hoped he could hold it off a bit longer, this was one of the few good shirts he had that wasn’t already ruined with blood stains.

“Aye. I wanted to pay my respects to the people who made you into the man you are today.” Geoffrey’s face relaxed, settling into a fond expression, almost content as he admired the cold stone and memorized the names etched into it. “They meant a lot to you, I can tell. You visited them often, even when your mother was still alive.”

It wasn’t a question but Jonathan nodded nonetheless. He assumed Geoffrey had his scouts watching him during the events of the epidemic and long after, collecting information on his weaknesses possibly. That didn’t really bother him now like it might have so many months ago.

“I lost them both in such a short amount of time.” He admitted, his shoulders slumped as his gaze lowered to focus on the candlelight. He reached out, teasing the flame with his fingertips as if he could mold it to his own use. It wasn’t a destructive intent but more out of childish fascination. “I don’t have any family left and eventually, with my condition, I’ll potentially be forced out of the small comfort I’ve found in London.” He shrugged his shoulders in a jerky motion, reminded of the precautions Lady Ashbury took to hide what she was. All the secret identities and hidden agendas, moving around constantly, jumping borders and even secluding herself for periods of time to keep the suspicions of hunters away. He couldn’t imagine what a miserably lonely life that was.

“Listen to me, mournful about events that have yet to pass.” He forced the thoughts out of his head with a firm shake and sighed, sitting back to straighten up. “I really appreciate all you’ve done for me so far Geoffrey.” Jonathan continued, pushing himself up to his feet as he dusted the snow from his knees and winced at the dampness that soaked the front of his pantlegs. He dismissed the discomfort and turned towards the basket, scooping it up into his arms as he pulled on a fond smile for the hunter. He spotted the raised brow aimed his way as he held the basket out towards the hunter, letting him lift the white fabric that concealed the contents from the rest of London.

“What mischief have you found Reid?” He asked, reaching for the edge of the cloth to lift it and peer in at the contents. “Bloody hell! Did you rob a shop or something?”

Jonathan frowned though it faded quickly. “Is it too much? I didn’t really know what to get you for Christmas and thought that you and the men would enjoy a little festive cheer?”

“Aye, it is a lot but the lads will appreciate the thought. Thank you.” He accepted the basket, smiling softly to himself as he shifted the weight in his arms and set it back down on the ground carefully. “I have something for you as well, naturally. I promised you something special this time around.”

“Ah, yes. Of course.” Jonathan reached up to untie the cord from around his neck but Geoffrey stopped him with a hand on his arm and shook his head.

“You won’t be needing that.” He added. It was Jonathan’s turn to look confused, an incredulous brow raised as he appraised the hunter suspiciously. His eyes widened when Geoffrey took a step back and dropped to kneel before the doctor, his hand reaching into his pocket simultaneously as he withdrew a gold band, held carefully in his fingers. “It’s a long life you’ll live, Jonathan. Would you do me the honors and let me become a part of it? To let me give you the rest of my lifetime. I know it’s not an equal trade but its all I have.”

The violent storm of emotions that the doctor had been fending off all evening came rushing out like a dam burst after a long rain. Jonathan stood speechless as red tears trickled down his face, a swell of joy filling his chest to bursting as he sucked in a breath and blurted unceremoniously. “Yes! Geoffrey… I-” His voice broke as the hunter rose back to his feet and took Jonathan’s shaking hands in his and slipped the ring on his finger. His words swallowed quickly by the warmth of living breath against his skin and Geoffrey’s lips on his, strong arms pulling him close as they embraced. Jonathan felt foolish that all he had to offer was a cheese and wine basket now. He let the laughter filter out between desperate kisses, a hysterical sound that filled the silence of the Cemetery.

“Let me be the reason you keep living, Jonathan Emmet Reid. In this life and in the next.” Geoffrey whispered against his lips, deep blue eyes staring back at him with all the fondness of a lovestruck wolf gazing at a long lonely moon. Singing a song so deep and true of its affections. Jonathan felt it ringing in his heart, the spring of the beats matching pace as he held the hunter close to him, nestling his face into his shoulder and relishing in the cool metal wrapped around his finger. A final immortal promise. 

**Author's Note:**

> Just so you are all aware. This fic took place over the expanse of almost 5 months when you add up the number of charms and trinkets given and the weeks.
> 
> Please leave comments and kudos and tell me what you think!


End file.
